


The Best Meal I'll Ever Have

by TheGreatDepression



Category: Kitchen Nightmares RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 22:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatDepression/pseuds/TheGreatDepression
Summary: The Chef reveals to you that your staff had been cheating you out of thousands, what will he do?





	The Best Meal I'll Ever Have

"Sir, I really need help." I finished my long voicemail. It was the last thing I had to do, since I had spent my day finishing every other step. In order to even be a contestant on the infamous show, Kitchen Nightmares, I had to fill out a fourteen page document, and do a perfect video tour of my restaurant. I honestly doubted that I'd even get the automated response from the show, let alone an entire episode. After all, our customer reviews were great, the building is beautiful, the food is delicious; it seemed perfect from the outside, but behind closed doors it was a different story. Quite the opposite actually.

"Hello, this is _____ _____ Diner, how may I help you?" I heard from the kitchen. Ever since I sent those things to the show's email and left that voicemail, I feel like I have super hearing. "Yep! Yes ma'am, okay I will." Meg said before quickly through the kitchen doors before handing me the phone, whispering "It's fucking Gordon Ramsay on the phone!" My entire body pulsed with fear and anticipation.

"Hello, this is ______ ______, the owner of _____ _____ Diner, how may help you?"

"Yeah? How many times d'you rehearse that this morning?"

I nervously chuckle, "Um-"

"Don't answer that, I was only joking love. I've called to tell you that you're going to be on the show. Congratulations."

I huffed out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding in, "Whew, thank goodness, I was worried."

"So, ______, I've researched your restaurant, and I'm confused about what's going on in your business. On your online reviews, all of them rave about how amazing your food is, but everything they say about the staff is awful, why?"

"Well, I don't really know. My business is booming because of my recipes but I'm not making any money, I guess it must be my staff."

A few days later, _the_ Gordon Ramsay was at a table in my restaurant, eating my specialty, _It's Rare_ , which is a classic steak and cheese sandwich on perfectly toasted bread. I was dressed to the nines head to toe, over and under my dress. My best lingerie was beneath the white and black dress I wore tonight, which a black, light jacket. I brought the meal to the Chef myself. Everything he ate before this sandwich he said was delicious, I was so happy earilier I cried. When I sat the plate down, he asked me to take a seat. 

 

"Hello again, ______." The way he says my name is starting to drive me crazy. 

 

"Hey, Gordon." I smiled. Then he thanked me for bringing the plate, and began to eat.

 

"Finally, some good fucking food." He said, mouth half full. He finished the sandwich in no time, with no complaints. After he finished he sighed heavily. "God, that was amazing." I grinned with pleasure and thanked him. Then he described why the sandwich was so good, bringing tears to my eyes. After so many years, I have the real Gordon Ramsay in my restaurant telling me my food is not just good, great! "But, I have noticed some other things as well, yeah. It seems that your entire staff is stealing from you, and your manager is running the scheme."

 

"Oh my god."

 

I was still crying, I couldn't stop. My workers betrayed me and put me into debt on purpose, how could they do this to me. A warm, callused hand rubbed my back as an attempt to comfort me as I weep my eyes out. "I'm so sorry you have to see me like this chef." The restaurant closed way earlier, and Gordon had cussed out all of my now former-employees and they'd all quit and left after they admitted they stole from me. 

"It's alright, ______, I understand. You have nothing to apologize for." He said confidently, giving me a strong hug from the side. I looked at him through teary eyes, shaking slightly, before looking away again. "I'll help find new people, after all I did make them quit. Everything is going to be okay, ______." I finally felt the tears begin to lighten up in amount, sniffling the last few away. 

 

"Thank you so much, Chef."

 

"You're very welcome, love." He paused for a second, "I know this is probably a bad time but I don't know if I'll ever get another chance to ask; would you like to go out for a drink?"

 

"Yes, please, right now. God knows I need one after this night."

 

"Great, my car's outside, let's go."

 

We went to the closest bar, I Need A Drink, and had quite a few drinks and laughs together. We had chemistry together, and I mean a lot. The role he plays on the TV is completely different than how he is in real life. He's very kind, generous and funny as hell when he isn't so frustrated. After we finally go to leave, it's nearly sunrise, so we decide to get a room at a hotel after riding in an Uber. (don't drink and drive kids). It was a longer drive than we'd anticipated, so we sobered up a bit before getting to the hotel. When we finally checked in, I began to feel awful already from all the alcohol. I shouldn't have drink so much. So I took some emergency ibuprofen i keep in my bag and drink the water Gordon had gotten for me, and fell asleep. 

 

I awoke in a fuzz, head pounding very lightly, looking around at the hotel room. At first, before i opened my eyes, i thought it'd been a dream, until i fucking looked across the room to see him asleep on the pull out couch. I gasped, being brought out of my haze by the sound of a housekeeper banging on the door, waking him up as well. He cursed, yelling out "We're staying over, do not disturb!" I chuckled, just woke up and he's already yelling. He hears and looks back at me, smiling back. He stands, walking over to sit on the bed next to you. "Morning."

 

"Mornin'."

 

Next, you were both in another Uber on the way to your apartment. You were going to make the two of you breakfast.   


"Fucking delicious," he paused to look you in your eyes, "but i bet you taste even better." he glanced hungrily down to my lips. "May I kiss you?"

 

"Please, Chef." And so, he leaned in and gave you the best kiss you ever could have imagined. His tongue dance gracefully around your mouth, eliciting a moan from your chest. He pulled away to check for an objection from you, but none came, so he leans back in for another. The next thing I knew we were in my bedroom, my arms pinned above my head with his left hand, while his other massaged my pussy through my lacy panties. He pulled the dress off my shoulders and hips and feet until i was just in my undergarments. 

"Nice."

 

"Thanks Chef, I wore them for you." 

 

"God, I'm gonna fucking break you." He said huskily, grabbing you and placing you onto the bed, undoing your bra with ease and slipping off your panties. "Nice, very moist." He rubbed directly on my clit after finding it with ease. His worn hands felt amazing against the slick folds. As he teased me with one hand, he used his mouth to kiss up and down my neck and on to my breasts, teasing each nipple. He kissed down and down on your body until he reached my heat, licking up between the folds onto the clit, making me moan loudly. "Lovely." He said, continuing to lick the same spot until you came apart onto his lips. He leaned back up, licking his lips before kissing you. You can taste yourself on his tongue. 

 

"That's the best meal I've has this week."


End file.
